War With the Newts

by Karel Čapek

  C. von Frisch inquired if the Newts were edible.

  J. Gilbert: No. Nor is their skin any use at all.

  M. Bonenfant wished to know what the Board actually intended to do.

  G. H. Bondy (rising): ‘Gentlemen, we called this extraordinary general meeting so we could openly draw your attention to the exceedingly unfavourable outlook for our Company which, if you will allow me to remind you, proudly declared dividends of 20 to 23 per cent in recent years, in addition to setting aside ample reserves and amortisations. We have now reached a watershed: the kind of business that proved so successful in the past is virtually at an end. We have no choice but to seek new avenues.’ (Applause)

  ‘I would almost say that the passing of our excellent captain and friend J. van Toch at this very moment is the hand of fate. To his person was linked that romantic, beautiful and - let me be frank - slightly foolish little business with the pearls. I regard this as a closed chapter in our concern. It had its, how shall I put it, exotic charm, but it did not fit into our modern age. Gentlemen, pearls can never be the subject of a vast horizontal and vertical enterprise. To me, personally, that pearl business, was just a little entertaining diversion’ - (Uneasiness) ‘Yes, gentlemen, a diversion which earned you and me a nice profit. Besides, in the early stages of our enterprise those Newts had some kind of, let’s say, charm of novelty. Three hundred million Newts will no longer have that charm.’ (Laughter)

  ‘I said: new avenues. So long as my good friend Captain van Toch was alive there could be no question of giving our enterprise a character different from what I would call Captain van Toch’s style.’ (Why not?) ‘Because, sir, I have too much taste to mix different styles. Captain van Toch’s style was, let us say, the style of the adventure novel. It was the style of Jack London, of Joseph Conrad and others. The old, exotic, colonial, almost heroic style. I do not deny that in its way it fascinated me. But after Captain van Toch’s death we have no right to continue such adventurous or juvenile epics. What lies ahead of us, gentlemen, is not a new chapter but a whole new concept, a task for a new and substantially different imagination.’ (You talk as if this was a novel!) ‘Just so, sir; you’re right. Personally, I am interested in business as an artist. Without some artistic touch, sir, you’ll never come up with a new idea. We’ve got to be poets if we want to keep the world turning.’ (Applause)

  G. H. Bondy bowed. ‘Gentlemen, it is with regret that I am closing this chapter, what I would call the van Tochian chapter. It enabled us to live out whatever there was young and adventurous in us. The time has now come to put an end to the fairy-tale of pearls and corals. Sindbad the sailor is dead, gentlemen. The question is: Where do we go from here?’ (That’s what we want to hear from you!) ‘Very well, gentlemen. Pick up your pencils and write. Six million. Got that? Now multiply by fifty. That makes 300 million, correct? Now multiply by fifty again. That makes 15 billion, correct? And now, gentlemen, would you kindly tell me what we are to do with 15 billion Newts in three years from now. How do we employ them, how do we feed them, and so on?’ (Why not just let them die?) ‘Yes, gentlemen, but wouldn’t that be rather wasteful? Just think that every Newt represents some economic value, a workforce value waiting for exploitation? Gentlemen, with 6 million Newts we can just about manage. With 300 million things will be more difficult. But 15 billion Newts, gentlemen, is simply beyond us. The Newts will eat up the Company. That’s how matters stand.’ (That’ll be your responsibility! You started the whole business with the Newts!)

  G. H. Bondy straightened up. ‘I fully accept that responsibility, gentlemen. Anyone so inclined can immediately divest himself of the Pacific Export Company’s shares. I am willing to buy up every single share …’ (At how much?) ‘At par value, sir.’ (Commotion. The chairman grants a ten minute adjournment.)

  After the adjournment H. Brinkelaer requests the floor. He voiced his satisfaction over the way the Newts were rapidly multiplying, which meant that the Company’s assests were growing. But of course it would be sheer madness to cultivate them without purpose; if they themselves had no appropriate employment for them, then he proposed, on behalf of a group of shareholders, that the Newts should simply be sold as labour to whoever planned to conduct any operations in or under water. (Applause) Feeding the Newts cost a few cents a day; if a pair of Newts, therefore, were sold for, say, 100 francs and even if a working Newt survived for just one year, this would be an investment that must easily pay for itself with any contractor. (Expressions of agreement.)

  J. Gilbert observed that Newts attained an age considerably in excess of one year, even though experience so far was insufficient to establish their actual lifespan.

  H. Brinkelaer amended his proposal to the effect that the price of a pair of Newts should be set at 300 francs f.o.b.

  S. Weissberger inquired what kind of work the Newts could in fact perform.

  Manager Volavka: ‘By natural instinct and with their exceptional technical adaptability the Newts are especially suited to the construction of dams, dykes and breakwaters, the deepening of harbours and waterways, the removal of sandbars and mud deposits, and for keeping shipping lanes clear. They can secure and regulate marine coastlines, extend continents, and so on. All these were instances of vast-scale works, requiring hundreds and thousands of labour units; moreover, these were projects of such magnitude that even modern engineering technology would never venture to embark on them unless an exceedingly cheap workforce were available.’ (Hear, hear! Bravo!)

  Dr Hubka objected that by selling off the Newts, which might then multiply in new locations, the Company would be losing its monopoly in them. He proposed that working parties of properly trained and qualified Newts should instead merely be hired out to hydraulic engineering contractors, on condition that any future progeny should continue to be the property of the Company.

  Manager Volavka pointed out that it was impossible to guard millions or possibly billions of Newts in the water, let alone their progeny; unfortunately a lot of Newts had already been stolen for zoos and menageries.

  Col D. W. Bright: ‘Only male Newts should be sold, or else hired out, to prevent propagation outside the incubators and farms owned by the Company.’

  Manager Volavka: ‘We cannot claim that the Newt farms are the property of the Company. You cannot own or rent any part of the sea-bed. In point of law the question of who actually owns the Newts living in the territorial waters of, for the sake of argument, Her Majesty the Queen of the Netherlands, is exceedingly uncertain and could lead to a lot of litigation.’ (Uneasiness) ‘In most instances we do not even hold a title to fishing rights. We have, in fact, set up our Newt farms in the Pacific islands without legal title.’ (Growing uneasiness)

  Replying to Col Bright, J. Gilbert pointed out that, on past experience, isolated male Newts after a while lost their agility and value as labour units; they became lazy, apathetic and often pined away.

  Von Fritsch inquired if it would not be possible to castrate or sterilise the marketable Newts.

  J. Gilbert: ‘That would come too expensive; there is simply no way of preventing the sold Newts from procreation.’

  S. Weissberger, speaking as a member of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals urged that any future sale of Newts should be executed in a humane manner and in a way that would not offend human feelings.

  J. Gilbert thanked him for the suggestion; it was understood that the catch and transportation of Newts would be entrusted to trained personnel only and operated under proper supervision. One could not, of course, guarantee the manner in which contractors buying the Newts would treat them.

  S. Weissberger declared that he was satisfied with Vice-Chairman J. Gilbert’s assurances. (Applause)

  G. H. Bondy: ‘Gentlemen, let us forgo the idea straight away that we could possibly maintain our monopoly in Newts in the future. Unfortunately, under existing regulations, we can’t take out a patent on them.’ (Laughter) ‘We can and must maintain our privileged positio
n with regard to the Newts in another way; an indispensable condition, of course, will be that we tackle our business in a different style and on a far greater scale than hitherto.’ (Hear, hear!) ‘Here, gentlemen, we have a whole batch of provisional agreements. The Board of Directors proposes that a new vertical trust be set up under the name of The Salamander Syndicate. The members of this Syndicate would be, apart from our Company, a number of major enterprises and financially powerful groups: for example, a certain concern which would manufacture special patented metal instruments for the Newts - ‘(Are you referring to MEAS?) ‘Yes, sir, I am referring to MEAS. Further, a chemical and foodstuffs cartel which would produce cheap patented feedingstuff for the Newts; a group of transportation companies which - making use of experience gained so far - would take out patents on special hygienic tanks for the transport of Newts; a block of insurance firms which would undertake the insurance of the animals purchased against injury or death during transportation and at their places of work; further various other interested parties in the fields of industry, export and finance which, for weighty reasons, we will not name at this stage. Perhaps it would be sufficient for you to know that this Syndicate would initially have at its disposal four hundred million pounds sterling.’ (Excitement) ‘This bundle here, my friends, are all contracts which are merely awaiting signature for one of the largest economic organisations of our century to come into being. The Board of Directors requests you, gentlemen, to authorise it to establish this giant concern, whose task will be the cost-effective cultivation and exploitation of the Newts.’ (Applause and shouts of dissent)

  ‘Gentlemen, I would ask you to reflect on the advantages of such co-operation. The Salamander Syndicate will supply not only Newts but also all the tools and food needed by the Newts, that is maize, starch products, suet and sugar for the feeding of billions of animals; further the transport, insurance, veterinary services, and so on - all this at the lowest cost which would ensure if not a monopoly then at least an overwhelming superiority over any future competitor who might try to market Newts. Just let them try, gentlemen; they won’t compete with us for long.’ (Bravo!) ‘And that’s not all. The Salamander Syndicate will supply all the building materials for the hydro-engineering work to be done by the Newts. That’s why heavy industry is backing us, cement, building timber, stone - ‘(You don’t know yet how well the Newts are going to work!) ‘Gentlemen, at this very moment twelve thousand Newts are working in Saigon harbour on new docks, basins and jetties.’ (You never told us that!) ‘No. It is the first large-scale experiment. This experiment, gentlemen, has been most gratifyingly successful. The future of the Newts is now beyond any doubt.’ (Enthusiastic applause)

  ‘And that’s not all, gentlemen. This does not by any means exhaust the tasks of the Salamander Syndicate. The Syndicate will be looking for work for millions of Newts throughout the world. It will supply plans and ideas for control of the seas. It will promote Utopias and gigantic dreams. It will supply projects for new coasts and canals, for causeways linking the continents, for whole chains of artificial islands for transoceanic flights, for new continents to be built in the oceans. That is where mankind’s future lies. Gentlemen, four-fifths of the earth’s surface is covered by seas; that is unquestionably too much; the world’s surface, the map of oceans and dry land, must be corrected. We shall give the world the workforce of the sea, gentlemen. This will no longer be the style of Captain van Toch; we shall replace the adventure story of pearls by the hymnic paean of labour. We can either be shopkeepers or we can be creators; but unless we think in terms of continents and oceans we shall fall short of our potential. Somebody here mentioned the price of a pair of Newts. I would like you to think in terms of entire billions of Newts, of millions and millions of labour units, of transformation of the earth’s crust, of a new Genesis and new geological epochs. We can speak today of a new Atlantis, of ancient continents which will stretch out further and further into the world’s oceans, of New Worlds which mankind will build for itself. Forgive me, gentlemen, if this strikes you as Utopian. Yes indeed, we are entering upon Utopia. We are right in it, my friends. We only have to work out the future of the Newts in technical terms - ‘(And in economic terms!)

  ‘Quite so. Especially in economic terms. Gentlemen, our Company is not big enough to exploit billions of Newts on its own; we are not capable of it financially - nor politically. Once the map of oceans and continents begins to change, gentlemen, the great powers will be interested in the business. But we will not discuss that; we will not mention the high quarters which are already adopting a very positive attitude to the Syndicate. I beg you, gentlemen, not to lose sight of the immense scope of the business that you will be voting on.’ (Enthusiastic prolonged applause. Excellent! Bravo!)

  It nevertheless proved necessary, before the vote was taken on the Salamander Syndicate, to promise that a dividend of at least 10 per cent would be paid out that year on the shares of the Pacific Export Company, drawn on the reserves. After that, the holders of 87 per cent of the shares voted in favour and a mere 13 against. The proposal of the Board of Directors was in consequence adopted. The Salamander Syndicate came into being. G. H. Bondy was congratulated.

  ‘You put that very nicely, Mr Bondy,’ old Sigi Weissberger complimented him. ‘Very nicely indeed. But tell me, Mr Bondy, how did you hit on the idea?’

  ‘How?’ G. H. Bondy asked absent-mindedly. ‘To tell you the truth, Mr Weissberger, it was because of old van Toch. He had such faith in his Newts - Poor fellow, what would he have said if we’d simply let those tapa-boys of his die or be done in?’

  ‘What tapa-boys?’

  ‘Why, those bloody Newts. Now at least they’ll be decently treated - now that they have some value. Besides, Mr Weissberger, those brutes aren’t fit for anything other than some Utopia.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Mr Weissberger. ‘But have you ever seen a Newt, Mr Bondy? I don’t actually know what a Newt is. Tell me, what do they look like?’

  ‘I haven’t a clue, Mr Weissberger. Why should I know what a Newt is? Have I got time to worry what it looks like? I should be glad we’ve got that Salamander Syndicate sewn up.’

  Appendix

  The Sex Life of the Newts

  One of the favourite occupations of the human mind is to speculate how the world and mankind will look in the distant future, what technological miracles will have been accomplished, what social problems solved, and what progress made by science and social organisation, and so on. Most of these Utopias, however, do not omit to exhibit a very lively interest in the question of what will be the future, in that better, more advanced or at least technologically more perfect world, of an institution as ancient yet ever popular as sex, propagation, love, marriage, the family, women’s rights, and suchlike. Reference may be made on this point to the relevant literature, such as Paul Adam, H. G. Wells, Aldous Huxley, and many others.

  By referring to the above examples, the author considers it his duty - now that he has cast a glance into the future of our globe - to discuss also the lines on which sexual matters will be arranged in that future world of the Newts. He is doing so now in order not to have to revert to the subject later on. Admittedly, the sex life of Andrias Scheuchzeri accords, in basic outline, with the propagation of other caudate amphibians: there is no copulation in the strict sense, the female lays her eggs in several stages, the fertilised eggs develop in the water into tadpoles, and so on; details may be found in any book on natural history. We shall therefore mention only a few peculiarities observed in that respect in Andrias Scheuchzeri.

  In early April, H. Bolte records, the males associate with the females; in each sexual period the male as a rule sticks to the same female and, for a number of days, does not leave it even for a moment. During that time he takes in no food, whereas the female exhibits considerable voracity. The male pursues her in the water, trying to get his head close to hers. When he has succeeded in this he shoves his mouth a little way in front of
her snout, possibly to prevent her from escaping, and becomes motionless. Thus, touching only with their heads while their bodies form an angle of about thirty degrees, the two animals float alongside each other without any movement. From time to time the male begins to writhe so violently that his flank strikes that of the female; thereupon he again becomes motionless, his legs wide apart, with only his mouth touching the head of his chosen mate who, meanwhile, with complete indifference, feeds on whatever she encounters. This, if we may so call it, kiss continues for several days; sometimes the female will tear herself away in her search for food, and the male will then pursue her in evident agitation and even anger. At last the female ceases any further resistance, she no longer tries to escape, and the pair float motionless in the water, like two dark logs lashed together. At that point the male’s body is shaken by convulsive tremors, in the course of which he emits a copious, somewhat sticky sperm into the water. Immediately afterwards he leaves the female and hides away among the rocks, utterly exhausted; in that state his leg or tail might be cut off without defensive reaction on his part.

  The female, meanwhile, remains for some time in her rigid, motionless position; then she arches her body vigorously and begins to expel from her cloaca concatenated eggs in a gelatinous sheath; in this she often assists herself with her hindlegs, in the manner of toads. These eggs number from forty to fifty and hang from the female like a tuft. With these eggs the female swims to sheltered spots and there attaches them to algae, seaweed or just stones. Ten days later the same female lays another set of eggs, numbering from twenty to thirty, although she has not been in contact with the male during that period; evidently these eggs were fertilised directly in her cloaca. As a rule a third and a fourth batch of eggs are laid after a further seven or eight days and fifteen to twenty days respectively; these range from fifteen to twenty in number. Within a period from one to three weeks agile tadpoles hatch out, with finely branched gills. After a year these tadpoles grow into adult Newts and are capable of further propagation.